


For The Love Of A Puppy

by BromanceOverFlowers



Category: K-Drama - Fandom, Kdrama - Fandom, answer me 1994, reply 1994, 응답하라 1997 | Answer Me 1997
Genre: Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-14
Updated: 2013-12-14
Packaged: 2018-01-04 14:58:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1082378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BromanceOverFlowers/pseuds/BromanceOverFlowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Binggeure confesses to Trash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For The Love Of A Puppy

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by episode 16.

Trash Oppa is surprised by Binggeure's words. "I really like you, sunbae-nim." To Trash, it is just a brotherly confession. After all, he's the puppy, the dongsaeng, the younger brother that he, as the maknae of his family, had always wanted.

But gradually he realizes Binggeure's true intent. I  _like_  you, sunbae-nim. Trash's trademark grin fades a little as he realizes that his puppy is sincere. Stifling the urge to make a joke to diffuse the tension, he sits still and waits to see if his puppy has anything more to add.

"It's just... nice... being around you."

Binggeure busies himself with stirring the coffee that he hasn't bothered to taste or realize he's poured in tablespoon after tablespoon of sugar. He's waited years to say exactly how he feels, and the burst of adrenaline reminds him of when he had decided to drop out of school and figure out his dreams.

Only to learn that his dreams were to make his family proud.

But today, today... he is finally following his heart, ignoring the rational part of his brain that said he would be rejected. Because today, today... he finally had to release the pent up words and emotions he had stifled for so long. When he finally looks up from the swirling vortex of hot brown liquid, he finds Trash's impenetrable gaze directly focused on him. The nerves still ricochet through his body, but he feels the peace of finally declaring his long-standing love for his hyung begin to take over, and slowly grows more confident in returning Trash's steady gaze.

Trash can see the hesitation at first, the flash of vulnerability, and then the sincerity in his puppy's eyes. He'd always taken the admiring glances from the puppy as a form of hero worship -- the boy who had to always be the responsible hyung for his family had finally found someone to lean on. Trash had enjoyed being the one to nurture and encourage this dongsaeng. He had enjoyed being the friend and mentor and brother.

And hero.

Leaning back in his chair, Trash wonders how he didn't see it earlier. He's always found the right words to say to encourage the young man before him, but today he struggles. "I like you, puppy," he says, a small grin quirking up the corner of his mouth -- a reflexive action from just saying the nickname. But then concern flashes across his face. "However..."

Binggeure nods quickly, cutting him off. "I know, I know; you like someone else. I didn't expect anything, really; I just... I just needed to finally let you know, because, well... just because."

_Because it was eating me up inside; because just maybe you could see the man and not 'the puppy;' because... to keep a confession locked inside forever means I can never let you go.  
_

The unspoken words fill the quiet space between them, and Trash shifts in his seat. Silent seconds tick by, only disturbed by the rhythmic clink of spoon against ceramic as Binggeure continues his now-mindless stirring of the coffee. A heavy hand covers his, forcing the spoon to come to a stop.

"Thank you." The sincerity in Trash's eyes causes Binggeure to look away, because he can feel the emotion swell and threaten to pierce his tear ducts, and he's not ready to cry. Not yet. He still needs to be strong and confident and prepared to accept the rejection that will come from Trash's lips. Instinctively, like he's done hundreds of times before, Trash reaches out a hand and gently places it against the puppy's cheek, the familiar touch causing Binggeure to look at him.

"You are a wonderful man. And I love you, my puppy, my dongsaeng, my friend. But I am not the man for you. My heart belongs to someone else. I'm sorry."

Binggeure nods and fights back a tear, knowing that this would the response, but Trash's hand against his cheek and the eyes so filled with concern and trust and love are more than he can handle. His deep breath is shaky, but it fills his lungs with confidence. "I know, sunbae-nim. But I just needed to tell you."

Trash lets his hand drop and he leans back in his chair. "Confession is good for the soul, puppy; even if it feels like it will tear your heart into pieces. And sometimes..." he hesitates, remembering his own experiences in confessing, "...and sometimes it does just that."

"But... but one day, it will be right. For both you, and the person you love. And that person will love you back, just as you are, with no restraint or fear or a heart that belongs to another." He leans forward to chuck Binggeure under the chin, a goofy grin spreading across his face. "Aioo, puppy -- this is why I keep telling you to stop calling me 'sunbae-nim!' Maybe if you had only called me Trash like all the other kids," he teasingly chides, "you would have learned that I'm not even close to being good enough for you."

The joke is weak and flat, but enough to get a small-but-still-smiling acceptance from the puppy -- no, the young man, now fully grown-up -- seated in front of him. "C'mon," he adds, waggling the hand that still covers Binggeure's; "you're going to need something stronger than coffee right now."

As they leave the cafe and head out to a convenience store to buy beer and soju withTrash chattering nonstop about ridiculous non sequiturs, he thoughtfully watches Binggeure, who is still quiet and nervous, but there's a sense of confidence and defiance in his demeanor that Trash is careful to respect. His heart breaks a little for the puppy he had chosen years ago, the one he'd happily taken under his wing to mentor and to support. Trash, the healer of bodies during the day, wishes that it were so easy to heal hearts, too.

Months later, the new interns arrive at their first post, nervous and shy and, perhaps, even scared at the thought that now, for the first time after years of study, they would be responsible for someone's life and well-being. Trash smiles as he eyes them, remembering how he felt that first day, too, years ago. Then he steels himself and puts on his most intimidating face. "Interns!" he barks. "Attention!"

Eventually, after getting to know each one a little better as he takes them on their rounds, one intern catches his eye. Something about the calm, confident way he answers questions, unafraid of looking directly at the sunbae, one who didn't show any fear when facing the patients and being forced to make diagnoses right on the spot, the gentle and friendly way he was able to interact with the patients -- it reminds him a little of himself, but it also reminds him of someone else...

Weeks later, Trash finds the intern hiding in the storage closet, surrounded by shelves of hospital linens and gowns, leaning against a rack of bedpans, breathing deeply, in and out, his cheeks pale. The crazed look in the intern's eye makes it clear that the life of a medical intern has overwhelmed even this calm, stoic young man, and Trash smiles to himself.  _Ah, he's able to feel the pressures and insecurities, too._

"Intern!" he barks out, causing the young man to jump. "What are you doing, hiding in here?"

The intern pauses for a moment, clearly trying to come up with a plausible excuse. "I just... I just needed a moment... Mr. Park, he... he... it was..."

Trash now sees the large stain of blood across the intern's scrubs, and he realizes that an experience with a patient had not ended well. Perhaps this was first time for this young man to lose someone who had been entrusted in his care.

"C'mon, puppy," he says, unaware of the nickname he's just bestowed; "there's a better place to have a meltdown than next to bowls where people shit." The intern quietly follows his sunbae around the twisty corridors of the hospital until they come to a door leading to a stairwell. "Not many people know about this, but it looks like you could use it." Trash pushes open the door to reveal, painted on the stairs, a chair.

"This," Trash says with a grand flourish of the arm, "is the Truth Chair. You can say anything you want here, and the only one who will know is the chair." The intern looks askance as his sunbae, politely trying to hide his doubt over the sunbae's sanity in thinking sitting on a painted chair could possibly make him feel better. "I'm not crazy," Trash insists. "Just try it; you'll see."

He leaves the intern, only glancing through the small window the door to watch his new puppy gingerly climb the stairs and awkwardly make sure he's sitting exactly on the painted spot of the chair seat. Then he sees the intern exhale a shuddering sigh, and then, dropping his face in his hands, let out a sob.

Leaning against the wall next to the stairwell, Trash suddenly realizes who the intern reminds him of, and why the nickname 'puppy' came so easily to his lips. A smile creeps up and he thinks to himself, "If only..." then sighs as he pushes himself away from the wall. "No, it probably wouldn't work. But still... maybe..."

He finds himself whistling as he walks down the hallway, getting stern glares from the few nurses he's been unable to charm and smiles from everyone else. He has found himself a new puppy, but he still has never forgotten his first puppy.

 _Now, if there were only a way to bring these two puppies together._  His hand slips into his pocket and pulls out his phone. Maybe it was time for a work outing... and maybe they should invite some other doctors from another hospital...

"Are you busy tonight?" he texts. "I'm hosting an outing for the newbies and thought you might like to warn them how difficult I can be."  _And there's someone I think you should meet..._


End file.
